


Fuck I'm Old

by fightersguildchampion



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, rated t for swearing and a veeeeeery minor mention of sex, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5863441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightersguildchampion/pseuds/fightersguildchampion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short drabble originally posted on Tumblr. Indigo flips out after Farengar points out he has gray hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck I'm Old

You would’ve thought Indigo was dying if you’d seen him freak out.

“Gray. It’s gray. Gods- this is awful!” he shouted, frantically trying to use a particularly shiny plate from downstairs as a mirror. And growing increasingly frustrated, because it was a little too dark for him to actually spot a difference in his hair color.

Close to screaming and/or throwing it to the ground, he spun around to face Farengar. Who happened to be the one who caused all this in the first place.

Well, not that he meant to. He simply must’ve forgotten how melodramatic his husband could be. Otherwise he surely would not have let himself make a (seemingly) harmless, teasing comment like, “Is that a gray hair?” while stroking said hair. As they were about to sleep. And everything was so quiet and peaceful.

What he’d do to have that peace and quiet back now, he thought. Especially considering it was past midnight. Sleep would’ve been fucking great. Yet, instead, here he was, watching Indigo flip shit about something ridiculous at one in the morning.

“What if it’s more like a silver? Is it? That wouldn’t be so bad- please don’t tell me it looks bad. I never look bad. I can’t!”

What’s the difference? Farengar wondered. Gray is gray. But he decided, for the sake of all parties involved, to keep that thought to himself.

“Anyway, what’s important is- Farengar!” Indigo must’ve noticed he’d stopped listening, “-is that I still look good.” He ran his fingers through his hair, black and now so horribly tainted with gray, kinda slowly. Looking over and examining it very thoroughly, for about the six hundredth time that night. “I’m still handsome, right?”

Farengar just sort of stared at him for a moment. Like, it was almost fucking surreal. Someone who you’ve been married to for years, someone who you just made love to not but a few hours ago, asking you if you find them attractive. Imagine that.

Disregarding how foolish that was by itself… it was just hair. Only a few strands, at that. How was that supposed to impact his appearance? At least, impact it enough to make a difference. He didn’t get why it was such a big deal.

“Dashing,” he said through his teeth.

“Yeah, but, seriously? Like- do you mean that?”

Okay, so, perhaps the dripping sarcasm wasn’t the best for someone’s self-esteem. He sighed.

“There really is no difference, Indigo.”

His eyes lit up like he’d just been delivered the best news of his damn life. “Really?”

“I’m no liar.”

Indigo looked at the ‘mirror’ again, this time seeming to realize that, oh, maybe I’m really dramatic. A little.

Glad that this horrible discourse was finally over, Farengar walked from the door where he was standing, over to his husband.

“I don’t understand why this bothers you so much in the first place,” he said, letting his shoulder brush against Indigo’s as he watched him admire himself. Which was a good thing this time.

Indigo looked confused, as if Farengar simply wasn’t making sense. He gestured to himself, waving his hand in front of him from bottom to top and finally stopping to point at his face.

“Do you see this, Farengar?” he asked, as if it were the most important question in the world.

“Looking right at you.”

“I’m fucking gorgeous, love!” he repeated the gesture, looking much more exaggerated and sounding way more distressed.

“I know this.”

“So do I!” Indigo whined. “And I want it to stay that way.” Even though he wasn’t exactly losing his shit anymore, he was still obviously upset. Probably at the idea of growing old in general. (Which, admittedly, wasn’t totally unjustified. He was getting there.)

“It will, trust me- you look fine. Just as good as you always have,” Farengar assured him. He put a hand on his arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth to get him to look at him again.

“I admit my opinion may be a bit biased, but if you truly looked as bad as you seem to think…” his voice, soft, trailed off.

Gently, he kissed him, and twirled a strand of hair between his fingers as their lips met. Just as they had many times before. For a moment, he pulled away, but only to finish his sentence-

“I don’t think I’d want to do this quite so much.”


End file.
